


you're taking all my pain away (you're shaking like an earthquake)

by punkpete



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, completely self indulgent, that's literally it - Freeform, there's a bit of fluff too, yes this is a mile high club fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/pseuds/punkpete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Louis and Harry join the Mile High Club. For like, the millionth time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're taking all my pain away (you're shaking like an earthquake)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tippytoetomlinstyles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tippytoetomlinstyles/gifts).



> wow hi im sorry if this sucks i just had to write a mile high club fic and this is totally self indulgent but it's dedicated to my greatest pal danni, so i hope at least she'll enjoy it. i wrote it in like 4 hours and i think i killed myself a bit in the process. title from lucky strike by maroon 5!
> 
> comments and kudos would be great :) xx 
> 
> all the love,
> 
> sam

Harry is maybe a little drunk. Louis is possibly a lot drunk. That’s nothing new, though. They’re on their way home for the first time in a long time, or at least, the closest thing they have to a home, sitting inside the warm cavern of the private jet with  a couple too many glasses of champagne. Niall narrows his eyes at them from across the room as they leer at each other possibly a _little_ too obviously.

“I swear to god if you end up shagging in the toilet again I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” Niall says, holding up a hand in warning. The room falls silent except for the sound of Harry muffling his laughter against Louis’ shoulder.

“Does it help if we tell you ahead of time? Just blast Drake or something.” Louis smirks, and Niall whips his head around to glare at Liam, whose looking like an excited puppy at the prospect of blasting Drake on the jet. Fuck Louis for knowing how to get Liam to agree to anything.

“Sounds romantic.” Zayn says, and everyone turns to look at him.

“What?” Niall blinks.

“Well, they met in the toilets, yes? So it’s kind of like going back to the place you first met.” Zayn supplies, as if this is a totally normal explanation.

“I’ll take it!” Harry grins, wide and earnest and mostly inebriated, before he wraps a big paw around Louis’ wrist and drags him towards the bathroom.

“You couldn’t have waited till we got back to the bungalow?” Louis snorts, but he really isn’t complaining. It’s not like this isn’t a frequent occurrence. Harry giggles again, but doesn’t say anything, just forcibly turns Louis in his arms and shoves him up against the edge of the sink, so his back is facing him and Harry’s hands tighten on his hips.

Distantly, though everything is pleasantly tingling and fuzzy around the edges, he can hear the opening notes of a song start. He knows Harry’s smirking without having to look at him, but he turns back to look at him and plants an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. Harry whines into it when Louis pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth.

Louis turns to face the mirror again and starts unbuttoning his jeans, pulling the zipper down and attempting to pull them down with little to no wiggle room with Harry kissing the back of his neck. He quickly gets annoyed, dropping his hands by his sides and sighing exaggeratedly.

“I really hate you for packing everything ahead of time except for these goddamn skinny jeans, Haz. This could’ve been so much faster if I had been wearing me joggers.” He turns his head to look at Harry again and pouts. Harry mumbles something unintelligible against his shoulder. He lifts his head, clearing his throat again before he speaks.

“Wouldn’t have that problem if you packed your own shit.” Harry grins devilishly, and then he’s on his knees behind Louis, pulling the black denim down his legs. Louis shivers, gripping the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles turn white. He can feel Harry’s breath on the backs of his thighs. He feels his nose brush the back of his knee and his legs practically buckle as Harry finally pulls them off his feet and kicks them across the floor.

Louis leans back against Harry again, feeling more than a little shaky, and starts to pull the hem of the sheer black jumper (that’s clearly Harry’s) up before Harry slaps his hands away.

“Leave it on for now. I love you in my clothes,” Harry drawls, his voice husky and an octave deeper than usual, gritty sounding as he breathes against Louis’ ear. He pulls the hem of the jumper down as he slides back onto his knees.

“What are you doing?” Louis breathes unevenly, scrambling to lean farther forward to try to get a better grip on the sink. He’s looking into his own, wide eyes in the mirror, his fringe sticking up in odd places.

Harry pulls his pants down to his ankles, and Louis kicks them away without another word. Louis inhales sharply when Harry’s hands trail back up his legs and grip his ass, squeezing hard and landing a light slap to his left cheek. He bites affectionately at the bottom of his spine, digging his thumbs into Louis’ hips. He rolls the hem of the jumper up to reveal the tan skin of Louis’ lower back and stomach before he pulls his cheeks apart and licks a stripe over his hole.

“ _Oh_.” Louis squeaks, even though he knew it was coming. He can feel Harry grin against his skin before he traces his tongue around his rim, making Louis whimper.

“Gonna make you come on my tongue first, then you’re gonna come on my cock.” Harry slurs, gripping Louis’ cheeks more firmly before spreading his legs a little wider and sliding the tip of his tongue inside him. Louis moans, his jaw going slack as his mouth falls open.

“ _More,_ ” He begs, trying to push back against Harry’s face. Harry circles around his rim with his tongue again, humming against his skin before he slides his tongue in deeper. Louis grunts, trying to rut forwards to relieve the pressure on his cock, but to no avail, it’s trapped between the sink and his stomach.

Harry reaches around him until he can grip Louis’ cock firmly in his hand, and Louis lets out a whine. He ghosts his fingers over the crown, catching a bead of pre-come and letting his fingers slide down his shaft before pulling away. Louis feels like crying, but he bites his lip to stop it from trembling, and glares at himself through the mirror.

“ _God,_ some day we’re really gonna have to film this, wish I could see you eat me out.” Louis hisses out through his teeth, the syllables stringing together. Harry growls against him, and then he doubles his efforts, fucking in and out of Louis with his tongue, his grip so hard it’s definitely going to leave bruises. Louis can feel himself teetering on the edge already. He screws his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at his own flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, and tries to hold off as best he can. He feels Harry bite at the edge of his rim before he pulls back, and Louis clenches around nothing, letting out a weak mewl in protest. Harry pops his index finger into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing around the digit, and he only pulls it back out when it’s thoroughly coated in his spit.

He keeps one hand on Louis’ left cheek to keep him spread open, and slides his finger in along with tongue. Louis lets out a scream before he cuts himself off by covering his mouth with his hand. Harry pulls the hand on his cheek back and reaches up to pull his arm down and away from his face. Louis hangs his head, staring down at his neglected cock.

“Fuck, Haz, _faster_ ,” he cries out, trying to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes. He balls his hands into fists and slams them down onto the sink, hiccuping when he feels Harry hit his prostate. He pushes back onto Harry’s face harder, spreading out his fingers to grip the far side of the sink again, hoping it will help him stay upright. Harry pulls back, retracting his finger and wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“ _Come._ ” His voice booms, and he buries his face in Louis’ ass again. Louis clenches down around his tongue and comes, his cock spurting untouched, and he tries to catch most of it in his hand, but his aim is fucked because he’s seeing double and he covers half his palm with it, but the majority of it lands in the sink. Harry places a kiss to his hole before he stands and takes a step back from Louis to strip.

Louis feels his legs threatening to fall out from under him, so he tries to bend farther forward and grip one of the temperature knobs on the sink, but ends up missing spectacularly and grabbing the edge of the mirror. He pulls back and sees his own sticky hand print on the corner of the mirror. He groans, and stands all the way up on shaky legs to rinse it off his hand, so that he can grip the sink again without slipping if he needs to (he definitely will).

He shakes out his hand to dry it, and turns around to look at Harry, who is now gloriously naked and holding the bottle of lube.

“Glad I remembered to stash this here the last time.” Harry beams, all teeth, and then he’s striding forwards to pin Louis against the sink again.

Louis can feel Harry’s cock between his cheeks, hot, hard, and heavy, and he thinks this is his favorite feeling in the world. Louis leans back against Harry this time and wraps his arms around his neck, if with a little difficulty. Harry turns the slightest bit, so he can coat his fingers and then slip his hand down between their bodies.

He sets the lube down by his feet and kicks it to the side. Louis lets his head fall back on Harry’s shoulder and looks up at the ceiling as his index finger slides back into him. Louis inhales sharply, even though it goes in smoothly, he’ll never get over how good it feels with him. Harry trails his mouth over the side of Louis’ neck, biting down and sucking as he slides in the second finger. Louis hisses through his teeth, pushing back against his fingers and trying to get a better angle. Harry soothes over the mark with his tongue, moving farther down till he has his mouth in the junction between Louis’ neck and shoulder, and bites down again.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Harry mumbles against his skin, and Louis can’t help but smile up at the ceiling dopily. Louis wriggles a little, turning his face to meld their lips together. It’s wet and open-mouthed, more tongue than anything, but it makes Louis’ blood boil even hotter. He bears down hard on Harry’s hand when he adds a third digit, and Harry whispers into his ear to coax him into relaxing around his fingers. He breathes out a contented sigh when Harry’s hand speeds up, tightening his hold on the back of Harry’s neck and pulling at his hair.

Harry abruptly stops moving his fingers and pulls them out, growls through his teeth against his neck, and nudges him forward. He pulls Harry closer, pushes his stomach forwards till it presses against the sink, and arches his back to shove his ass out for the taking. Harry moans brokenly and starts to stroke himself, slicking himself up with his own pre-come and the leftover lube on his fingers. He grips himself at the base and guides himself inside Louis slowly, inch by inch, and the angle is so good Louis feels his eyes start to sting once again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, _move_.” Louis whines, winding his hands through Harry’s hair and pulling as hard as he can. Harry’s hips stutter forward and he chokes out an inhuman noise at the feeling. Harry pulls back and slams back into him without a word. Louis stands up on his tip toes, reveling in the ache and burn of his limbs. He can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin now, feels Harry breathing into his neck, looks at his own hands in Harry’s hair. It feels a bit like an out of body experience until Harry slows, the drag slow and torturous.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Louis protests, and then the tears are officially rolling down his cheeks, his eyelashes wet and his entire face blotchy and red. Harry stands up straighter, grips Louis’ hips and pulls all the way out till just the tip of his cock is inside him.

“I’m - gonna - kill you.” Louis pants, gripping onto Harry’s hair and holding on for dear life.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror. You’re gonna watch me fuck  you till you can’t walk.” Harry smirks, and then the pace becomes fast and erratic again. Louis stares determinedly forward and tries to keep his eyes open as Harry pounds into him. Harry reaches down to thumb around where he’s splitting Louis open, and Louis whimpers, blinks away the tears in his eyes.

“Harder.” Louis whines, even though he’s sure Harry can’t do it any harder. He stands corrected. Harry is thrusting into him with abandon now, and he watches him bite his lip in the mirror, gives one final tug to his hair before Harry’s mouth falls open and his hips stutter as he fucks into Louis while his cock twitches and he paints Louis’ insides, his name falling from his lips with a shout.

Louis clenches down around him wraps his arms back around his neck as he comes, striping his stomach and the sink with white ropes. Harry pulls out slowly and helps Louis sit on the toilet to clean up. Harry brushes Louis’ sweaty fringe out of his eyes and helps Louis into his clothes before dressing himself. He places a chaste kiss to his lips and then proceeds to wait by the door as Louis shimmies his jeans back up his legs and buttons them. He picks up the discarded lube from the floor and places it under the sink, grabs a piece of toilet paper and wets it before wiping down the mirror and throwing it in the bin. He slips his Vans back on and grins at Harry, sex-drunk and sleepy, and takes his hand as he unlocks the door and they step back out to make their way to their seats.

“Love you.” Louis whispers tiredly once they’re seated, face smushed against Harry’s shoulder. The music that was playing abruptly shuts off, and Harry turns to see Zayn and Niall asleep next to each other while Liam plugs his headphones into his laptop and gives them a smile before diverting his attention away.

Harry turns back to face Louis and squeezes his hand.

“Love you more.” Louis grunts in disagreement, but his eyes are already shut.

“Louis?”

“Mmm?” Louis hums in response.

“Your fly is open.” Harry laughs.

“What?” Louis turns to face him and cracks an eye open.

“Genuinely, wide open.” Harry supplies, his dimples popping as his smile widens. Louis opens his eyes just to roll them, but he turns to pull his zipper up nonetheless.

  
This is the moment where Harry realizes that his home is people, and not a place. It’s his boys and his family. More specifically, it’s Louis. It’s always been Louis.


End file.
